I don't know why campfires are so special to me. I didn't grow up camping. My folks didn't have the camping equipment and never had the money to go out and get it. But they loved to hike. I remember lots of drives out to different parks or the coast, and than walks and explorations.
I also remember this foul stuff called "sandwhich spread", which I believe is a satanic combination of mayonnaise and relish. Mom would put it on bologna sammies. I think that's why I always ate mine dry.
Plain Jane is what my parents called me. I've never been much of a condiment girl. Last night at Fred's Riddick was expounding on the qualities of Beaver brand condiments over other brands, I smiled lovingly and patted his yummy backside.
Oh but I digress.
Campfires are my favorite part of camping. There is a sense of togetherness and comfort when sitting outside around a fire that I don't feel, even inside in front of the fireplace.
Our friends, Carlsinna and Monkeyfeet have an awesome fire ring in their backyard. It's the best part of their wonderful home for me.
This was our fire while in HappyCamp. It was perfect. Warm and inspiring a sense of safety from the constant threat of bigfoot attacks.
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